


Sand and Sunbeams

by minamiskotori



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Fluff, Pre-Canon, Walks On The Beach, aro angie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 21:05:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12566156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minamiskotori/pseuds/minamiskotori
Summary: Angie hears the God of her island.





	Sand and Sunbeams

**Author's Note:**

> An early birthday fic for florian. It also doubles as writing practice for Angie, since she's one of my favorite characters and all. I hope I did her justice writing this fic, aah...

God this, God that. That’s all Angie’s parents seem to talk about. She doesn’t get it. When sitting alongside her parents for service, she doesn’t feel the same connections to him as they do. She prays, but God’s voice doesn’t reach her. What was she doing wrong?

One day, she asks her mother a question, “Who is God?”

Mother pushes her finger to lips, but nothing comes out of her mouth. She then extends her hand, which meant that Angie had to give her mother hers. The young girl’s tiny hand felt secure inside her mother’s larger one. Mother tells her, “why don’t we go for a walk on the beach?” her voice as warm as her hands are.

Angie notices the little details in things. Like when she looks back at the footprints she and her mom make in the pale sand, walking on the beach. Her footprints are tiny, compared to her mother’s. The feeling of the sand between her toes is cool and squishy. Angie likes it. 

Her mother tells her to look up at the horizon. She does, and she sees the sky like it’s a canvas, covered with smears of orange and magenta paint. She notices that the sun is peeking out where the sky meets the ocean, as if it’s waving Angie and her mother goodbye before disappearing. 

Looking down again, Angie sees the waves of green-and-white sea foam lap up on the beach. She feels the water as it sweeps over her feet, and she thinks it tickles. The waves rise up to just below her knees before her mother pulls her away from the tide. 

As the two continued their walk, something catches the corner of little Angie’s eye. A weirdly-shaped object, covered by a modest layer of sand. She struggles to get out of her mom’s tight grasp, and hurries over to where the object is as fast as she can. She gets onto her knees and uses her hands like shovels, brushing away the dust. She eventually comes across a large seashell- she doesn’t know what it’s called, but since it’s pink on the inside, she calls it “Pinky”. 

Angie takes Pinky over to her mom, whose mouth is wide with surprise. She claps her hands and gives Angie a cheer, filling the young girl with confidence.

“You know, Angie,” her mother says, “Maybe you can hear the voice of God if you put the shell to your ear.”

And that’s exactly what the little girl does. She keeps her mouth shut and tries to hear something from the shell as best she can. What she does hear in the shell are the crashes of waves against the shore, the sound of the sun setting after a long day, the sound of crackling fire, the sound of charcoal against paper. All the sounds Angie enjoys the most. 

Angie takes Pinky off her ear and looks up at her mother. “Was that God talking to me?” She asks innocently.

Her mother does the same finger-to-lip expression from earlier. “Of course it was, Angie. God is everywhere on this island. The sounds you heard in the shell right now were his voice.”

Angie gasps, her eyes filled with stars. “Did he really? What did he say to Angie?”

“God says, ‘Angie, you are a very talented girl. I am happy to be watching over you.’”

Angie squeals with excitement. In one hand she holds her mother’s hand, and in the other, she holds Pinky. Together, they walk home, although this time, Angie is the one dragging her mother behind her, leaving her tiny footprints in the sand as she runs.


End file.
